Under the Red Robe by Stanley Weyman

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UNDER THE RED ROBE

by

STANLEY J. WEYMAN

*

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. AT ZATON'S

CHAPTER II. AT THE GREEN PILLAR

CHAPTER III. THE HOUSE IN THE WOOD

CHAPTER IV. MADAM AND MADEMOISELLE

CHAPTER V. REVENGE

CHAPTER VI. UNDER THE PlC DU MIDI

CHAPTER VII. A MASTER STROKE

CHAPTER VIII. A MASTER STROKE--Continued

CHAPTER IX. THE QUESTION

CHAPTER X. CLON

CHAPTER XI. THE ARREST

CHAPTER XII. THE ROAD TO PARIS

CHAPTER XIII. AT THE FINGER-POST

CHAPTER XIV. ST MARTIN'S EVE

CHAPTER XV. ST MARTIN'S SUMMER

*

UNDER THE RED ROBE

CHAPTER I

AT ZATON'S

'Marked cards!'

There were a score round us when the fool, little knowing the manwith whom he had to deal, and as little how to lose like agentleman, flung the words in my teeth. He thought, I'll besworn, that I should storm and swear and ruffle it like anycommon cock of the hackle. But that was never Gil de Berault'sway. For a few seconds after he had spoken I did not even lookat him. I passed my eye instead--smiling, BIEN ENTENDU--roundthe ring of waiting faces, saw that there was no one except DePombal I had cause to fear; and then at last I rose and looked atthe fool with the grim face I have known impose on older andwiser men.

'Marked cards, M. l'Anglais?' I said, with a chilling sneer.'They are used, I am told, to trap players--not unbirchedschoolboys.'

'Yet I say that they are marked!' he replied hotly, in his queerforeign jargon. 'In my last hand I had nothing. You doubled thestakes. Bah, sir, you knew! You have swindled me!'

'Monsieur is easy to swindle--when he plays with a mirror behindhim,' I answered tartly.

At that there was a great roar of laughter, which might have beenheard in the street, and which brought to the table everyone inthe eating-house whom his voice had not already attracted. But Idid not relax my face. I waited until all was quiet again, andthen waving aside two or three who stood between us and theentrance, I pointed gravely to the door.

'There is a little space behind the church of St Jacques, M.l'Etranger,' I said, putting on my hat and taking my cloak on myarm. 'Doubtless you will accompany me thither?'

He snatched up his hat, his face burning with shame and rage.

'With pleasure!' he blurted out. 'To the devil, if you like!'

I thought the matter arranged, when the Marquis laid his hand onthe young fellow's arm and checked him.

'This must not be,' he said, turning from him to me with hisgrand, fine-gentleman's air. 'You know me, M. de Berault. Thismatter has gone far enough.'

'Too far! M. de Pombal,' I answered bitterly. 'Still, if youwish to take your friend's place, I shall raise no objection.'

'Chut, man!' he retorted, shrugging his shoulders negligently.'I know you, and I do not fight with men of your stamp. Nor needthis gentleman.'

'Undoubtedly,' I replied, bowing low, 'if he prefers to be canedin the streets.'

'De Berault, if you please,' I objected, eyeing him sternly. 'Myfamily has borne the DE as long as yours, M. de Pombal.'

He could not deny that, and he answered, 'As you please;' at thesame time restraining his friend by a gesture. 'But none theless,' he continued, 'take my advice. The Cardinal has forbiddenduelling, and this time he means it! You have been in troubleonce and gone free. A second time it may fare worse with you.Let this gentleman go, therefore, M. de Berault. Besides--why,shame upon you, man!' he exclaimed hotly; 'he is but a lad!'

Two or three who stood behind me applauded that, But I turned andthey met my eye; and they were as mum as mice.

'His age is his own concern,' I said grimly. 'He was old enougha while ago to insult me.'

'And I will prove my words!' the lad cried, exploding at last.He had spirit enough, and the Marquis had had hard work torestrain him so long. 'You do me no service, M. de Pombal,' hecontinued, pettishly shaking off his friend's hand. 'By yourleave, this gentleman and I will settle this matter.'

'That is better,' I said, nodding drily, while the Marquis stoodaside, frowning and baffled. 'Permit me to lead the way.'

Zaton's eating-house stands scarcely a hundred paces from StJacques la Boucherie, and half the company went thither with us.The evening was wet, the light in the streets was waning, thestreets themselves were dirty and slippery. There were fewpassers in the Rue St Antoine; and our party, which earlier inthe day must have attracted notice and a crowd, crossed unmarked,and entered without interruption the paved triangle which liesimmediately behind the church. I saw in the distance one of theCardinal's guard loitering in front of the scaffolding round thenew Hotel Richelieu; and the sight of the uniform gave me pausefor a moment. But it was too late to repent.

The Englishman began at once to strip off his clothes. I closedmine to the throat, for the air was chilly. At that moment,while we stood preparing, and most of the company seemed a littleinclined to stand off from me, I felt a hand on my arm, andturning, saw the dwarfish tailor at whose house, in the RueSavonnerie, I lodged at the time. The fellow's presence wasunwelcome, to say the least of it; and though for want of bettercompany I had sometimes encouraged him to be free with me athome, I took that to be no reason why I should be plagued withhim before gentlemen. I shook him off, therefore, hoping by afrown to silence him.

He was not to be so easily put down, however, and perforce I hadto speak to him.

'Afterwards, afterwards,' I said hurriedly. 'I am engaged now.

'For God's sake, don't, sir!' the poor fool cried, clinging tomy sleeve. 'Don't do it! You will bring a curse on the house.He is but a lad, and--'

'You, too!' I exclaimed,losing patience. 'Be silent, you scum!What do you know about gentlemen's quarrels? Leave me; do youhear?'

'But the Cardinal!' he cried in a quavering voice. 'TheCardinal, M. de Berault! The last man you killed is notforgotten yet. This time he will be sure to--'

'Leave me, do you hear?' I hissed. The fellow's impudencepassed all bounds. It was as bad as his croaking. 'Begone!' Iadded. 'I suppose you are afraid that he will kill me, and youwill lose your money.'

Frison fell back at that almost as if I had struck him, and Iturned to my adversary, who had been awaiting my motions withimpatience. God knows he did look young as he stood with hishead bare and his fair hair drooping over his smooth woman'sforehead--a mere lad fresh from the college of Burgundy, if theyhave such a thing in England. I felt a sudden chill as I lookedat him: a qualm, a tremor, a presentiment. What was it thelittle tailor had said? That I should--but there, he did notknow. What did he know of such things? If I let this pass Imust kill a man a day, or leave Paris and the eating-house, andstarve.

'A thousand pardons,' I said gravely, as I drew and took myplace. 'A dun. I am sorry that the poor devil caught me soinopportunely. Now however, I am at your service.'

He saluted and we crossed swords and began. But from the first Ihad no doubt what the result would be. The slippery stones andfading light gave him, it is true, some chance, some advantage,more than he deserved; but I had no sooner felt his blade than Iknew that he was no swordsman. Possibly he had taken half-a-dozen lessons in rapier art, and practised what he learned withan Englishman as heavy and awkward as himself. But that was all.He made a few wild clumsy rushes, parrying widely. When I hadfoiled these, the danger was over, and I held him at my mercy.

I played with him a little while, watching the sweat gather onhis brow and the shadow of the church tower fall deeper anddarker, like the shadow of doom, on his face. Not out of cruelty--God knows I have never erred in that direction!--but because,for the first time in my life, I felt a strange reluctance tostrike the blow. The curls clung to his forehead; his breathcame and went in gasps; I heard the men behind me and one or twoof them drop an oath; and then I slipped--slipped, and was downin a moment on my right side, my elbow striking the pavement sosharply that the arm grew numb to the wrist.

He held off. I heard a dozen voices cry, 'Now! now you havehim!' But he held off. He stood back and waited with his breastheaving and his point lowered, until I had risen and stood again.on my guard.

'On guard, sir!' I answered coldly--for he seemed to waver, andbe in doubt. 'It was an accident. It shall not avail youagain.'

Several voices cried 'Shame!' and one, 'You coward!' But theEnglishman stepped forward, a fixed look in his blue eyes. Hetook his place without a word. I read in his drawn white facethat he had made up his mind to the worst, and his courage so wonmy admiration that I would gladly and thankfully have set one ofthe lookers-on--any of the lookers-on--in his place; but thatcould not be. So I thought of Zaton's closed to me, of Pombal'sinsult, of the sneers and slights I had long kept at the sword'spoint; and, pressing him suddenly in a heat of affected anger, Ithrust strongly over his guard, which had grown feeble, and ranhim through the chest.

When I saw him lying, laid out on the stones with his eyes halfshut, and his face glimmering white in the dusk--not that I sawhim thus long, for there were a dozen kneeling round him in atwinkling--I felt an unwonted pang. It passed, however, in amoment. For I found myself confronted by a ring of angry faces--of men who, keeping at a distance, hissed and cursed andthreatened me, calling me Black Death and the like.

They were mostly canaille, who had gathered during the fight, andhad viewed all that passed from the farther side of the railings.While some snarled and raged at me like wolves, calling me'Butcher!' and 'Cut-throat!' or cried out that Berault was athis trade again, others threatened me with the vengeance of theCardinal, flung the edict in my teeth, and said with glee thatthe guard were coming--they would see me hanged yet.

'His blood is on your head!' one cried furiously. 'He will bedead in an hour. And you will swing for him! Hurrah!'

'Begone,' I said.

'Ay, to Montfaucon,' he answered, mocking me.

'No; to your kennel!' I replied, with a look which sent him ayard backwards, though the railings were between us. And I wipedmy blade carefully, standing a little apart. For--well, I couldunderstand it--it was one of those moments when a man is notpopular. Those who had come with me from the eating-house eyedme askance, and turned their backs when I drew nearer; and thosewho had joined us and obtained admission were scarcely morepolite.

But I was not to be outdone in SANG FROID. I cocked my hat, anddrawing my cloak over my shoulders, went out with a swagger whichdrove the curs from the gate before I came within a dozen pacesof it. The rascals outside fell back as quickly, and in a momentI was in the street. Another moment and I should have been clearof the place and free to lie by for a while--when, withoutwarning, a scurry took place round me. The crowd fled every wayinto the gloom, and in a hand-turn a dozen of the Cardinal'sguards closed round me.

I had some acquaintance with the officer in command, and hesaluted me civilly.

'This is a bad business, M. de Berault,' he said. 'The man isdead they tell me.'

'Neither dying nor dead,' I answered lightly. 'If that be allyou may go home again.'

'With you,' he replied, with a grin, 'certainly. And as itrains, the sooner the better. I must ask you for your sword, Iam afraid.'

'Take it,' I said, with the philosophy which never deserts me.'But the man will not die.'

'I hope that may avail you,' he answered in a tone I did notlike. 'Left wheel, my friends! To the Chatelet! March!'

'There are worse places,' I said, and resigned myself to fate.After all, I had been in a prison before, and learned that onlyone jail lets no prisoner escape.

But when I found that my friend's orders were to hand me over tothe watch, and that I was to be confined like any common jail-bird caught cutting a purse or slitting a throat, I confess myheart sank. If I could get speech with the Cardinal, all wouldprobably be well; but if I failed in this, or if the case camebefore him in strange guise, or if he were in a hard moodhimself, then it might go ill with me. The edict said, death!

And the lieutenant at the Chatelet did not put himself to muchtrouble to hearten me. 'What! again M. de Berault?' he said,raising his eyebrows as he received me at the gate, andrecognised me by the light of the brazier which his men were justkindling outside. 'You are a very bold man, or a very foolhardyone, to come here again. The old business, I suppose?'

'Yes, but he is not dead,' I answered coolly. 'He has a trifle--a mere scratch. It was behind the church of St Jacques.'

'Bah!' I answered scornfully. 'Have you ever known me make amistake When I kill a man I kill him. I put myself to pains, Itell you, not to kill this Englishman. Therefore he will live.'

'I hope so,' the lieutenant said, with a dry smile. 'And you hadbetter hope so, too, M. de Berault, For if not--'

'Well?' I said, somewhat troubled. 'If not, what, my friend?'

'I fear he will be the last man you will fight,' he answered.'And even if he lives, I would not be too sure, my friend. Thistime the Cardinal is determined to put it down.'

'He and I are old friends,' I said confidently.

'So I have heard,' he anwered, with a short laugh. 'I think thatthe same was said of Chalais. I do not remember that it savedhis head.'

This was not reassuring. But worse was to come. Early in themorning orders were received that I should be treated withespecial strictness, and I was given the choice between irons andone of the cells below the level. Choosing the latter, I wasleft to reflect upon many things; among others, on the queer anduncertain nature of the Cardinal, who loved, I knew, to play witha man as a cat with a mouse; and on the ill effects whichsometimes attend a high chest-thrust however carefully delivered.I only rescued myself at last from these and other unpleasantreflections by obtaining the loan of a pair of dice; and thelight being just enough to enable me to reckon the throws, Iamused myself for hours by casting them on certain principles ofmy own. But a long run again and again upset my calculations;and at last brought me to the conclusion that a run of bad luckmay be so persistent as to see out the most sagacious player.This was not a reflection very welcome to me at the moment.

Nevertheless, for three days it was all the company I had. Atthe end of that time, the knave of a jailor who attended me, andwho had never grown tired of telling me, after the fashion of hiskind, that I should be hanged, came to me with a less assuredair.

'Perhaps you would like a little water?' he said civilly.

'Why, rascal?' I asked.

'To wash with,' he answered.

'I asked for some yesterday, and you would not bring it,' Igrumbled. 'However, better late than never. Bring it now. If Imust hang, I will hang like a gentleman. But depend upon it, theCardinal will not serve an old friend so scurvy a trick.'

'You are to go to him,' he announced, when he came back with thewater.

'What? To the Cardinal?' I cried.

'Yes,' he answered.

'Good!' I exclaimed; and in my joy and relief I sprang up atonce, and began to refresh my dress. 'So all this time I havebeen doing him an injustice,' I continued. 'VIVE MONSEIGNEUR!Long live the little Bishop of Luchon! I might have known it,too.'

'Don't make too sure!' the man answered spitefully. Then hewent on, 'I have something else for you. A friend of yours leftit at the gate,' and he handed me a packet.

'Quite so!' I said, leading his rascally face aright. 'And youkept it as long as you dared--as long as you thought I shouldhang, you knave! Was not that so? But there, do not lie to me.Tell me instead which of my friends left it.' For, to confessthe truth, I had not so many friends at this time and ten goodcrowns--the packet contained no less a sum--argued a prettystaunch friend, and one of whom a man might reasonably be proud.

The knave sniggered maliciously. 'A crooked dwarfish man leftit,' he said. 'I doubt I might call him a tailor and not be farout.'

'Chut!' I answered--but I was a little out of countenance,nevertheless. 'I understand. An honest fellow enough, and indebt to me! I am glad he remembered. But when am I to go,friend?'

'In an hour,' he answered sullenly. Doubtless he had looked toget one of the crowns; but I was too old a hand for that. If Icame back I could buy his services; and if I did not I shouldhave wasted my money.

Nevertheless, a little later, when I found myself on my way tothe Hotel Richelieu under so close a guard that I could seenothing in the street except the figures that immediatelysurrounded me, I wished that I had given him the money. At suchtimes, when all hangs in the balance and the sky is overcast, themind runs on luck and old superstitions, and is prone to think acrown given here may avail there--though THERE be a hundredleagues away.

The Palais Richelieu was at this time in building, and we wererequired to wait in a long, bare gallery, where the masons wereat work. I was kept a full hour here, pondering uncomfortably onthe strange whims and fancies of the great man who then ruledFrance as the King's Lieutenant-General, with all the King'spowers, and whose life I had once been the means of saving by alittle timely information. On occasion he had done something towipe out the debt; and at other times he had permitted me to befree with him, and so far we were not unknown to one another.

Nevertheless, when the doors were at last thrown open, and I wasled into his presence, my confidence underwent a shock. His coldglance, that, roving over me, regarded me not as a man but anitem, the steely glitter of his southern eyes, chilled me to thebone. The room was bare, the floor without carpet or covering.Some of the woodwork lay about, unfinished and in pieces. Butthe man--this man, needed no surroundings. His keen pale face,his brilliant eyes, even his presence--though he was of no greatheight, and began already to stoop at the shoulders--were enoughto awe the boldest. I recalled, as I looked at him, a hundredtales of his iron will, his cold heart, his unerring craft. Hehad humbled the King's brother, the splendid Duke of Orleans, inthe dust. He had curbed the Queen-mother. A dozen heads, thenoblest in France, had come to the block through him. Only twoyears before he had quelled Rochelle; only a few months before hehad crushed the great insurrection in Languedoc: and though thesouth, stripped of its old privileges, still seethed withdiscontent, no one in this year 1630 dared lift a hand againsthim--openly, at any rate. Under the surface a hundred plots, athousand intrigues, sought his life or his power; but these, Isuppose, are the hap of every great man.

No wonder, then, that the courage on which I plumed myself sanklow at sight of him; or that it was as much as I could do tomingle with the humility of my salute some touch of the SANGFROID of old acquaintanceship.

And perhaps that had had been better left out. For it seemedthat this man was without bowels. For a moment, while he stoodlooking at me, and before he spoke to me, I gave myself up forlost. There was a glint of cruel satisfaction in his eyes thatwarned me, before he opened his mouth, what he was going to sayto me.

'I could not have made a better catch, M. de Berault,' he said,smiling villainously, while he gently smoothed the fur of a catthat had sprung on the table beside him. 'An old offender, andan excellent example. I doubt it will not stop with you. Butlater, we will make you the warrant for flying at higher game.'

'Monseigneur has handled a sword himself,' I blurted out. Thevery room seemed to be growing darker, the air colder. I wasnever nearer fear in my life.

'Yes?' he said, smiling delicately. 'And so--?'

'Will not be too hard on the failings of a poor gentleman.'

'He shall suffer no more than a rich one,' he replied suavely ashe stroked the cat. 'Enjoy that satisfaction, M. de Berault. Isthat all?'

'Once I was of service to your Eminence,' I said desperately.

'Payment has been made,' he answered, 'more than once. But forthat I should not have seen you.'

'The King's face!' I cried, snatching at the straw he seemed tohold out.

He laughed cynically, smoothly. His thin face, his darkmoustache, and whitening hair, gave him an air of indescribablekeenness.

'I am not the King,' he said. 'Besides, I am told that you havekilled as many as six men in duels. You owe the King, therefore,one life at least. You must pay it. There is no more to besaid, M. de Berault,' he continued coldly, turning away andbeginning to collect some papers. 'The law must take itscourse.'

I thought that he was about to nod to the lieutenant to withdrawme, and a chilling sweat broke out down my back. I saw thescaffold, I felt the cords. A moment, and it would be too late!

'I have a favour to ask,' I stammered desperately, 'if yourEminence will give me a moment alone.'

'To what end?' he answered, turning and eyeing me with colddisfavour. 'I know you--your past--all. It can do no good, myfriend.'

'No harm!' I cried. 'And I am a dying man, Monseigneur!'

'That is true,' he said thoughtfully. Still he seemed tohesitate; and my heart beat fast. At last he looked at thelieutenant. 'You may leave us,' he said shortly. 'Now,' hecontinued, when the officer had withdrawn and left us alone,'what is it? Say what you have to say quickly. And, above all,do not try to fool me, M. de Berault.'

But his piercing eyes so disconcerted me now that I had mychance, and was alone with him, that I could not find a word tosay, and stood before him mute. I think this pleased him, forhis face relaxed.

'Well?' he said at last. 'Is that all?'

'The man is not dead,' I muttered.

He shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.

'What of that?' he said. 'That was not what you wanted to sayto me.'

'Once I saved your Eminence's life,' I faltered miserably.

'Admitted,' he answered, in his thin, incisive voice. 'Youmentioned the fact before. On the other hand, you have taken sixto my knowledge, M. de Berault. You have lived the life of abully, a common bravo, a gamester. You, a man of family! Forshame! Do you wonder that it has brought you to this! Yet onthat one point I am willing to hear more,' he added abruptly.

'I might save your Eminence's life again,' I cried. It was asudden inspiration.

'You know something?' he said quickly, fixing me with his eyes.'But no,' he continued, shaking his head gently. 'Pshaw! Thetrick is old. I have better spies than you, M. de Berault.'

'But no better sword,' I cried hoarsely. 'No, not in all yourguard!'

'That is true,' he said slowly. 'That is true.'To my surprise, he spoke in a tone of consideration; and helooked down at the floor. 'Let me think, my friend,' hecontinued.

He walked two or three times up and down the room, while I stoodtrembling. I confess it, trembling. The man whose pulses dangerhas no power to quicken, is seldom proof against suspense; andthe sudden hope his words awakened in me so shook me that hisfigure as he trod lightly to and fro with the cat rubbing againsthis robe and turning time for time with him, wavered before myeyes. I grasped the table to steady myself. I had not admittedeven in my own mind how darkly the shadow of Montfaucon and thegallows had fallen across me.

I had leisure to recover myself, for it was some time before hespoke. When he did, it was in a voice harsh, changed,imperative. 'You have the reputation of a man faithful, atleast, to his employer,' he said. 'Do not answer me. I say itis so. Well, I will trust you. I will give you one more chance--though it is a desperate one. Woe to you if you fail me! Doyou know Cocheforet in Bearn? It is not far from Auch.'

'No, your Eminence.'

'Nor M. de Cocheforet?'

'No, your Eminence.'

'So much the better,' he replied. 'But you have heard of him.He has been engaged in every Gascon plot since the late King'sdeath, and gave more trouble last year in the Vivarais than anyman twice his years. At present he is at Bosost in Spain, withother refugees, but I have learned that at frequent intervals hevisits his wife at Cocheforet which is six leagues within theborder. On one of these visits he must be arrested.'

'That should be easy,' I said.

The Cardinal looked at me. 'Chut, man! what do you know aboutit?' he answered bluntly. 'It is whispered at Cocheforet if asoldier crosses the street at Auch. In the house are only two orthree servants, but they have the countryside with them to a man,and they are a dangerous breed. A spark might kindle a freshrising. The arrest, therefore, must be made secretly.'

I bowed.

'One resolute man inside the house,' the Cardinal continued,thoughtfully glancing at a paper which lay on the table, 'withthe help of two or three servants whom he could summon to his aidat will, might effect it. The question is, Will you be the man,my friend?'

I hesitated; then I bowed. What choice had I?

'Nay, nay, speak out!' he said sharply. 'Yes or no, M. deBerault?'

'Yes, your Eminence,' I said reluctantly. Again, I say, whatchoice had I?

'You will bring him to Paris, and alive. He knows things, andthat is why I want him. You understand?'

'I understand, Monseigneur,' I answered.

'You will get into the house as you can,' he continued withenergy. 'For that you will need strategy, and good strategy.They suspect everybody. You must deceive them. If you fail todeceive them, or, deceiving them, are found out later, I do notthink that you will trouble me again, or break the edict a secondtime. On the other hand, should you deceive me'--he smiled stillmore subtly, but his voice sank to a purring note--'I will breakyou on the wheel like the ruined gamester you are!'

I met his look without quailing. 'So be it!' I said recklessly.'If I do not bring M. de Cocheforet to Paris, you may do that tome, and more also!'

'It is a bargain!' he answered slowly. 'I think that you willbe faithful. For money, here are a hundred crowns. That sumshould suffice; but if you succeed you shall have twice as muchmore. That is all, I think. You understand?'

'Yes, Monseigneur.'

'Then why do you wait?'

'The lieutenant?' I said modestly.

The Cardinal laughed to himself, and sitting down wrote a word ortwo on a slip of paper. 'Give him that,' he said in high good-humour. 'I fear, M. de Berault, you will never get your deserts--in this world!'

CHAPTER II.

AT THE GREEN PILLAR

Cocheforet lies in a billowy land of oak and beech and chestnuts--a land of deep, leafy bottoms and hills clothed with forest.Ridge and valley, glen and knoll, the woodland, sparsely peopledand more sparsely tilled, stretches away to the great snowmountains that here limit France. It swarms with game--withwolves and bears, deer and boars. To the end of his life I haveheard that the great king loved this district, and would sigh,when years and State fell heavily on him, for the beech grovesand box-covered hills of South Bearn. From the terraced steps ofAuch you can see the forest roll away in light and shadow, valeand upland, to the base of the snow peaks; and, though I comefrom Brittany and love the smell of the salt wind, I have seenfew sights that outdo this.

It was the second week of October, when I came to Cocheforet,and, dropping down from the last wooded brow, rode quietly intothe place at evening. I was alone, and had ridden all day in aglory of ruddy beech leaves, through the silence of forest roads,across clear brooks and glades still green. I had seen more ofthe quiet and peace of the country than had been my share sinceboyhood, and for that reason, or because I had no great taste forthe task before me--the task now so imminent--I felt a littlehipped. In good faith, it was not a gentleman's work that I wascome to do, look at it how you might.

But beggars must not be choosers, and I knew that this feelingwould not last. At the inn, in the presence of others, under thespur of necessity, or in the excitement of the chase, were thatonce begun, I should lose the feeling. When a man is young heseeks solitude, when he is middle-aged, he flies it and histhoughts. I made therefore for the 'Green Pillar,' a little innin the village street, to which I had been directed at Auch, and,thundering on the door with the knob of my riding switch, railedat the man for keeping me waiting.

Here and there at hovel doors in the street--which was a mean,poor place, not worthy of the name--men and women looked out atme suspiciously. But I affected to ignore them; and at last thehost came. He was a fair-haired man, half-Basque, half-Frenchman, and had scanned me well, I was sure, through somewindow or peephole; for when he came out he betrayed no surpriseat the sight of a well-dressed stranger--a portent in that out-of-the-way village--but eyed me with a kind of sullen reserve.

'I can lie here to-night, I suppose?' I said, dropping the reinson the sorrel's neck. The horse hung its head.

'I don't know,' he answered stupidly.

I pointed to the green bough which topped a post that stoodopposite the door.

'This is an inn, is it not?' I said.

'Yes,' he answered slowly. 'It is an inn. But--'

'But you are full, or you are out of food, or your wife is ill,or something else is amiss,' I answered peevishly. 'All thesame, I am going to lie here. So you must make the best of it,and your wife too--if you have one.'

He scratched his head, looking at me with an ugly glitter in hiseyes. But he said nothing, and I dismounted.

'Where can I stable my horse?' I asked.

'I'll put it up,' he answered sullenly, stepping forward andtaking the reins in his hand.

'Very well,' I said. 'But I go with you. A merciful man ismerciful to his beast, and wherever I go I see my horse fed.'

'It will be fed,' he said shortly. And then he waited for me togo into the house. 'The wife is in there,' he continued, lookingat me stubbornly.

'IMPRIMIS--if you understand Latin, my friend,' I answered. 'thehorse in the stall.'

He saw that it was no good, turned the sorrel slowly round, andbegan to lead it across the village street. There was a shedbehind the inn, which I had already marked, and taken for thestable, I was surprised when I found that he was not going there,but I made no remark, and in a few minutes saw the horse madecomfortable in a hovel which seemed to belong to a neighbour.

This done, the man led the way back to the inn, carrying myvalise.

'You have no other guests?' I said, with a casual air. I knewthat he was watching me closely.

'No,' he answered.

'This is not much in the way to anywhere, I suppose?'

'No.'

That was so evident, that I never saw a more retired place. Thehanging woods, rising steeply to a great height, so shut thevalley in that I was puzzled to think how a man could leave itsave by the road I had come. The cottages, which were no morethan mean, small huts, ran in a straggling double line, with manygaps--through fallen trees and ill-cleared meadows. Among thema noisy brook ran in and out, and the inhabitants--charcoal-burners, or swine-herds, or poor devils of the like class, wereno better than their dwellings. I looked in vain for theChateau. It was not to be seen, and I dared not ask for it.

The man led me into the common room of the tavern--a low-roofed,poor place, lacking a chimney or glazed windows, and grimy withsmoke and use. The fire--a great half-burned tree--smouldered ona stone hearth, raised a foot from the floor. A huge black potsimmered over it, and beside one window lounged a country fellowtalking with the goodwife. In the dusk I could not see his face,but I gave the woman a word, and sat down to wait for my supper.

She seemed more silent than the common run of her kind; but thismight be because her husband was present. While she moved aboutgetting my meal, he took his place against the door-post and fellto staring at me so persistently that I felt by no means at myease. He was a tall, strong fellow, with a shaggy moustache andbrown beard, cut in the mode Henri Quatre; and on the subject ofthat king--a safe one, I knew, with a Bearnais--and on thatalone, I found it possible to make him talk. Even then there wasa suspicious gleam in his eyes that bade me abstain fromquestions; so that as the darkness deepened behind him, and thefirelight played more and more strongly on his features, and Ithought of the leagues of woodland that lay between this remotevalley and Auch, I recalled the Cardinal's warning that if Ifailed in my attempt I should be little likely to trouble Parisagain.

The lout by the window paid no attention to me; nor I to him,when I had once satisfied myself that he was really what heseemed to be. But by-and-by two or three men--rough, uncouthfellows--dropped in to reinforce the landlord, and they, tooseemed to have no other business than to sit in silence lookingat me, or now and again to exchange a word in a PATOIS of theirown. By the time my supper was ready, the knaves numbered six inall; and, as they were armed to a man with huge Spanish knives,and made it clear that they resented my presence in their dullrustic fashion--every rustic is suspicious--I began to thinkthat, unwittingly, I had put my head into a wasps' nest.

Nevertheless, I ate and drank with apparent appetite; but littlethat passed within the circle of light cast by the smoky lampescaped me. I watched the men's looks and gestures at least assharply as they watched mine; and all the time I was racking mywits for some mode of disarming their suspicions, or failingthat, of learning something more of the position, which farexceeded in difficulty and danger anything that I had expected.The whole valley, it would seem, was on the look-out to protectmy man!

I had purposely brought with me from Auch a couple of bottles ofchoice Armagnac; and these had been carried into the house withmy saddle bags. I took one out now and opened it and carelesslyoffered a dram of the spirit to the landlord. He took it. As hedrank it, I saw his face flush; he handed back the cupreluctantly, and on that hint I offered him another, The strongspirit was already beginning to work, and he accepted, and in afew minutes began to talk more freely and with less of theconstraint which had before marked us all. Still, his tongue ranchiefly on questions--he would know this, he would learn that;but even this was a welcome change. I told him openly whence Ihad come, by what road, how long I had stayed in Auch, and where;and so far I satisfied his curiosity. Only, when I came to thesubject of my visit to Cocheforet I kept a mysterious silence,hinting darkly at business in Spain and friends across theborder, and this and that; in this way giving the peasants tounderstand, if they pleased, that I was in the same interest astheir exiled master.

They took the bait, winked at one another, and began to look atme in a more friendly way--the landlord foremost. But when I hadled them so far, I dared go no farther, lest I should commitmyself and be found out. I stopped, therefore, and, harking backto general subjects, chanced to compare my province with theirs.The landlord, now become almost talkative, was not slow to takeup this challenge; and it presently led to my acquiring a curiouspiece of knowledge. He was boasting of his great snow mountains,the forests that propped them, the bears that roamed in them, theizards that loved the ice, and the boars that fed on the oakmast.

'Well,' I said, quite by chance, 'we have not these things, it istrue. But we have things in the north you have not. We havetens of thousands of good horses--not such ponies as you breedhere. At the horse fair at Fecamp my sorrel would be lost in thecrowd. Here in the south you will not meet his match in a longday's journey.'

'Do not make too sure of that,' the man replied, his eyes brightwith triumph and the dram. 'What would you say if I showed you abetter--in my own stable?'

I saw that his words sent a kind of thrill through his otherhearers, and that such of them as understood for two or three ofthem talked their PATOIS only--looked at him angrily; and in atwinkling I began to comprehend. But I affected dullness, andlaughed in scorn.

'Seeing is believing,' I said. 'I doubt if you knows good horsewhen you see one, my friend.'

'Oh, don't I?' he said, winking. 'Indeed!'

'I doubt it,' I answered stubbornly.

'Then come with me, and I will show you one,' he retorted,discretion giving way to vain-glory. His wife and the others, Isaw, looked at him dumbfounded; but, without paying any heed tothem, he rose, took up a lanthorn, and, assuming an air ofpeculiar wisdom, opened the door. 'Come with me,' he continued.'I don't know a good horse when I see one, don't I? I know abetter than yours, at anyrate!'

I should not have been surprised if the other men had interfered;but I suppose he was a leader among them, they did not, and in amoment we were outside. Three paces through the darkness took usto the stable, an offset at the back of the inn. My man twirledthe pin, and, leading the way in, raised his lanthorn. A horsewhinnied softly, and turned its bright, mild eyes on us--abaldfaced chestnut, with white hairs in its tail and one whitestocking.

'There!' my guide exclaimed, waving the lanthorn to and froboastfully, that I might see its points. 'What do you say tothat? Is that an undersized pony?'

'Or any country,' he answered wrathfully. 'Or any country, Isay--I don't care where it is! And I have reason to know! Why,man, that horse is--But there, that is a good horse, if ever yousaw one!' And with that he ended--abruptly and lamely; loweredthe lanthorn with a sudden gesture, and turned to the door. Hewas on the instant in such hurry to leave that he almostshouldered me out.

But I understood. I knew that he had neatly betrayed all--thathe had been on the point of blurting out that that was M. deCocheforet's horse! M. Cocheforet's COMPRENEZ BIEN! And while Iturned away my face in the darkness that he might not see mesmile, I was not surprised to find the man in a moment changed,and become, in the closing of the door, as sober and suspiciousas before, ashamed of himself and enraged with me, and in a moodto cut my throat for a trifle.

It was not my cue to quarrel, however. I made therefore, as if Ihad seen nothing, and when we were back in the inn praised thehorse grudgingly, and like a man but half convinced. The uglylooks and ugly weapons I saw round me were fine incentives tocaution; and no Italian, I flatter myself, could have played hispart more nicely than I did. But I was heartily glad when it wasover, and I found myself, at last, left alone for the night in alittle garret--a mere fowl-house--upstairs, formed by the roofand gable walls, and hung with strings of apples and chestnuts.It was a poor sleeping-place--rough, chilly, and unclean. Iascended to it by a ladder; my cloak and a little fern formed myonly bed. But I was glad to accept it, for it enabled me to healone and to think out the position unwatched.

Of course M. de Cocheforet was at the Chateau. He had left hishorse here, and gone up on foot; probably that was his usualplan. He was therefore within my reach, in one sense--I couldnot have come at a better time--but in another he was as muchbeyond it as if I were still in Paris. For so far was I frombeing able to seize him that I dared not ask a question, or letfall a rash word, or even look about me freely. I saw I darednot. The slightest hint of my mission, the faintest breath ofdistrust, would lead to throat-cutting--and the throat would bemine; while the longer I lay in the village, the greatersuspicion I should incur, and the closer would be the watch keptupon me.

In such a position some men might have given up the attempt indespair, and saved themselves across the border. But I havealways valued myself on my fidelity, and I did not shrink. Ifnot to-day, to-morrow; if not this time, next time. The dice donot always turn up aces. Bracing myself, therefore, to theoccasion, I crept, as soon as the house was quiet, to the window,a small, square, open lattice, much cobwebbed, and partly stuffedwith hay. I looked out. The village seemed to be asleep. Thedark branches of trees hung a few feet away, and almost obscureda grey, cloudy sky, through which a wet moon sailed drearily.Looking downwards, I could at first see nothing; but as my eyesgrew used to the darkness--I had only just put out my rushlight--I made out the stable door and the shadowy outlines of thelean-to roof.

I had hoped for this, for I could now keep watch, and learn atleast whether Cocheforet left before morning. If he did not, Ishould know he was still here. If he did, I should be the betterfor seeing his features, and learning, perhaps, other things thatmight be of use to me in the future.

Making up my mind to the uncomfortable, I sat down on the floorby the lattice, and began a vigil that might last, I knew, untilmorning. It did last about an hour, at the end of which time Iheard whispering below, then footsteps; then, as some personsturned a corner, a voice speaking aloud and carelessly. I couldnot catch the words or meaning, but the voice was a gentleman's,and its bold accents and masterful tone left me in no doubt thatthe speaker was M. de Cocheforet himself. Hoping to learn more,I pressed my face nearer to the opening, and had just made outthrough the gloom two figures--one that of a tall, slight man,wearing a cloak, the other, I fancied, a woman's, in a sheenywhite dress--when a thundering rap on the door of my garret mademe spring back a yard from the lattice, and lie down hurriedly onmy couch. The summons was repeated.

'Well?' I cried, rising on my elbow, and cursing the untimelyinterruption. I was burning with anxiety to see more. 'What isit? What is the matter?'

The trap-door was lifted a foot or more. The landlord thrust uphis head.

'You called, did you not?' he said.

He held up a rushlight, which illumined half the room and lit uphis grinning face.

'Called--at this hour of the night, you fool?' I answeredangrily. 'No! I did not call. Go to bed, man!'

But he remained on the ladder, gaping stupidly. 'I heard you,'he said.

'Go to bed! You are drunk,' I answered, sitting up. 'I tell youI did not call.'

'Oh, very well,' he answered slowly. 'And you do not wantanything?'

'Nothing--except to be left alone,' I replied sourly.

'Umph!' he said. 'Good-night!'

'Good-night! Good-night!' I answered with what patience Imight. The tramp of the horse's hoofs as it was led out of thestable was in my ears at the moment. 'Good-night!' I continuedfeverishly, hoping that he would still retire in time, and I havea chance to look out. 'I want to sleep.'

'Good,' he said, with a broad grin. 'But it is early yet, andyou have plenty of time.'

And then, at last, he slowly let down the trap-door, and I heardhim chuckle as he went down the ladder.

Before he reached the bottom I was at the window. The woman,whom I had seen, still stood below in the same place, and besideher was a man in a peasant's dress, holding a lanthorn. But theman, the man I wanted to see, was no longer there. He was gone,and it was evident that the others no longer feared me; for whileI gazed the landlord came out to them with another lanthornswinging in his hand, and said something to the lady, and shelooked up at my window and laughed.

It was a warm night, and she wore nothing over her white dress.I could see her tall, shapely figure and shining eyes, and thefirm contour of her beautiful face, which, if any fault might befound with it, erred in being too regular. She looked like awoman formed by nature to meet dangers and difficulties, and toplay a great part; even here, at midnight, in the midst of thesedesperate men, she did not seem out of place. I could fancy--Idid not find it impossible to fancy--that under her queenlyexterior, and behind the contemptuous laugh with which she heardthe landlord's story, there lurked a woman's soul, a soul capableof folly and tenderness. But no outward sign betrayed itspresence--as I saw her then.

I scanned her very carefully; and secretly, if the truth be told,I was glad to find that Madame de Cocheforet was such a woman. Iwas glad that she had laughed as she had--with a ring of disdainand defiance; glad that she was not a little, tender, child-likewoman, to be crushed by the first pinch of trouble. For if Isucceeded in my task, if I contrived to--but, pish! Women, Itold myself, were all alike. She would find consolation quicklyenough.

I watched until the group broke up, and Madame, with one of themen, went her way round the corner of the inn, and out of mysight. Then I retired to bed again, feeling more than everperplexed what course I should adopt. It was clear that tosucceed I must obtain admission to the house, which wasgarrisoned, according to my instructions, by two or three oldmen-servants only, and as many women; since Madame, to disguiseher husband's visits the more easily, lived, and gave out thatshe lived, in great retirement. To seize her husband at home,therefore, might be no impossible task; though here, in the heartof the village, a troop of horse might make the attempt, andfail.

But how was I to gain admission to the house--a house guarded byquick-witted women, and fenced with all the precautions lovecould devise? That was the question; and dawn found me stilldebating it, still as far as ever from an answer. Anxious andfeverish, I was glad when the light came, and I could get up. Ithought that the fresh air might inspire me, and I was tired ofmy stuffy closet. I crept stealthily down the ladder, andmanaged to pass unseen through the lower room, in which severalpersons were snoring heavily. The outer door was not fastened,and in a hand-turn I was in the street.

It was still so early that the trees stood up black against thereddening sky, but the bough upon the post before the door wasgrowing green, and in a few minutes the grey light would beeverywhere. Already, even in the roadway, there was a glimmeringof it; and as I stood at the corner of the house--where I couldcommand both the front and the side on which the stable opened--sniffing the fresh air, and looking for any trace of themidnight departure, my eyes detected something light-colouredlying on the ground. It was not more than two or three pacesfrom me, and I stepped to it and picked it up curiously, hopingthat it might be a note. It was not a note, however, but a tinyorange-coloured sachet such as women carry in the bosom. It wasfull of some faintly-scented powder, and bore on one side theinitial 'E,' worked in white silk; and was altogether a daintylittle toy, such as women love.

Doubtless Madame de Cocheforet had dropped it in the night. Iturned it over and over; and then I put it in my pouch with asmile, thinking that it might be useful sometime, and in someway. I had scarcely done this, and turned with the intention ofexploring the street, when the door behind me creaked on itsleather hinges, and in a moment the host stood at my elbow, andgave me a surly greeting.

Evidently his suspicions were again aroused, for from this timehe managed to be with me, on one pretence or another until noon.Moreover, his manner grew each moment more churlish, his hintsplainer; until I could scarcely avoid noticing the one or theother. About mid-day, having followed me for the twentieth timeinto the street, he came to the point by asking me rudely if Idid not need my horse.

'No,' I said. 'Why do you ask?'

'Because,' he answered, with an ugly smile, 'this is not a veryhealthy place for strangers.'

'Ah!' I retorted. 'But the border air suits me, you see,'

It was a lucky answer, for, taken with my talk the night before,it puzzled him, by suggesting that I was on the losing side, andhad my reasons for lying near Spain. Before he had donescratching his head over it, the clatter of hoofs broke thesleepy quiet of the village street, and the lady I had seen thenight before rode quickly round the corner, and drew her horse onto its haunches. Without looking at me, she called to theinnkeeper to come to her stirrup.

He went. The moment his back was turned, I slipped away, and ina twinkling was hidden by a house. Two or three glum-lookingfellows stared at me as I passed down the street, but no onemoved; and in two minutes I was clear of the village, and in ahalf-worn track which ran through the wood, and led--if my ideaswere right--to the Chateau. To discover the house and learn allthat was to be learned about its situation were my most pressingneeds; and these, even at the risk of a knife thrust, I wasdetermined to satisfy.

I had not gone two hundred paces along the path, however, beforeI heard the tread of a horse behind me, and I had just time tohide myself before Madame came up and rode by me, sitting herhorse gracefully, and with all the courage of a northern woman.I watched her pass, and then, assured by her presence that I wasin the right road, I hurried after her. Two minutes walking atspeed brought me to a light wooden bridge spanning a stream. Icrossed this, and, as the wood opened, saw before me first awide, pleasant meadow, and beyond this a terrace. On theterrace, pressed upon on three sides by thick woods, stood a greymansion, with the corner tourelles, steep, high roofs, and roundbalconies, that men loved and built in the days of the firstFrancis.

It was of good size, but wore a gloomy aspect. A great yewhedge, which seemed to enclose a walk or bowling-green, hid theground floor of the east wing from view, while a formal rosegarden, stiff even in neglect, lay in front of the main building.The west wing, of which the lower roofs fell gradually away tothe woods, probably contained the stables and granaries.

I stood a moment only, but I marked all, and noted how the roadreached the house, and which windows were open to attack; then Iturned and hastened back. Fortunately, I met no one between thehouse and the village, and was able to enter my host's with anair of the most complete innocence.

Short as had been my absence, however, I found things alteredthere. Round the door lounged three strangers--stout, well-armedfellows, whose bearing, as they loitered and chattered, suggesteda curious mixture of smugness and independence. Half a dozenpack-horses stood tethered to the post in front of the house; andthe landlord's manner, from being rude and churlish only, hadgrown perplexed and almost timid. One of the strangers, I soonfound, supplied him with wine; the others were travellingmerchants, who rode in the first one's company for the sake ofsafety. All were substantial men from Tarbes--solid burgesses;and I was not long in guessing that my host, fearing what mightleak out before them, and, particularly, that I might refer tothe previous night's disturbance, was on tenter-hooks while theyremained.

For a time this did not suggest anything to me. But when we hadall taken our seats for supper, there came an addition to theparty. The door opened, and the fellow whom I had seen the nightbefore with Madame de Cocheforet entered and took a stool by thefire. I felt sure that he was one of the servants at theChateau; and in a flash his presence inspired me with the mostfeasible plan for obtaining admission which I had yet hit upon.I felt myself grow hot at the thought--it seemed so full ofpromise, yet so doubtful--and, on the instant, without givingmyself time to think too much, I began to carry it into effect.

I called for two or three bottles of better wine, and, assuming ajovial air, passed it round the table. When we had drunk a fewglasses I fell to talking, and, choosing politics, took the sideof the Languedoc party and the malcontents in so reckless afashion that the innkeeper was beside himself at my imprudence.The merchants, who belonged to the class with whom the Cardinalwas always most popular, looked first astonished and thenenraged. But I was not to be checked; hints and sour looks werelost upon me. I grew more outspoken with every glass, I drank tothe Rochellois, I swore it would not be long before they raisedtheir heads again; and, at last, while the innkeeper and his wifewere engaged lighting the lamp, I passed round the bottle andcalled on all for a toast.

'I'll give you one to begin,' I bragged noisily. 'A gentleman'stoast! A southern toast! Here is confusion to the Cardinal, anda health to all who hate him!'

'MON DIEU!' one of the strangers cried, springing from his seatin a rage. 'I am not going to stomach that! Is your house acommon treason-hole,' he continued, turning furiously on thelandlord, 'that you suffer this?'

'Then I will give you another,' I answered, with a hiccough.'Perhaps it will be more to your taste. Here is the Duke ofOrleans, and may he soon be King!'

CHAPTER III

THE HOUSE IN THE WOOD

Words so reckless fairly shook the three men out of their anger.For a moment they glared at me as if they had seen a ghost. Thenthe wine merchant clapped his hand on the table.

'That is enough,' he said, with a look at his companions. 'Ithink that there can be no mistake about that. As damnabletreason as ever I heard whispered! I congratulate you, sir, onyour boldness. As for you,' he continued, turning with an uglysneer to the landlord, 'I shall know now the company you keep! Iwas not aware that my wine wet whistles to such a tune!'

But if he was startled, the innkeeper was furious, seeing hischaracter thus taken away; and, being at no time a man of manywords, he vented his rage exactly in the way I wished, raising ina twinkling such an uproar as can scarcely be conceived. With aroar like a bull's, he ran headlong at the table, and overturnedit on the top of me. Fortunately the woman saved the lamp, andfled with it into a corner, whence she and the man from theChateau watched the skirmish in silence; but the pewter cups andplatters flew spinning across the floor, while the table pinnedme to the ground among the ruins of my stool. Having me at thisdisadvantage--for at first I made no resistance the landlordbegan to belabour me with the first thing he snatched up, andwhen I tried to defend myself, cursed me with each blow for atreacherous rogue and a vagrant. Meanwhile the three merchants,delighted with the turn things had taken, skipped round uslaughing, and now hounded him on, now bantered me with 'how isthat for the Duke of Orleans?' and 'How now, traitor?'

When I thought that this had lasted long enough--or, to speakmore plainly, when I could stand the innkeeper's drubbing nolonger--I threw him off, and struggled to my feet; but still,though the blood was trickling down my face, I refrained fromdrawing my sword. I caught up instead a leg of the stool whichlay handy, and, watching my opportunity, dealt the landlord ashrewd blow under the ear, which laid him out in a moment on thewreck of his own table.

'Now,' I cried, brandishing my new weapon, which fitted the handto a nicety, 'come on! Come on! if you dare to strike a blow,you peddling, truckling, huckstering knaves! A fig for you andyour shaveling Cardinal!'

The red-faced wine merchant drew his sword in a one-two.

'Why, you drunken fool,' he said wrathfully, 'put that stickdown, or I will spit you like a lark!'

'Lark in your teeth!' I cried, staggering as if the wine were inmy head. 'And cuckoo, too! Another word, and I--'

He made a couple of savage passes at me, but in a twinkling hissword flew across the room.

'VOILA!' I shouted, lurching forward, as if I had luck and notskill to thank for my victory. 'Now, the next! Come on, comeon--you white-livered knaves!' And, pretending a drunken frenzy,I flung my weapon bodily amongst them, and seizing the nearest,began to wrestle with him.

In a moment they all threw themselves upon me, and, swearingcopiously, bore me back to the door. The wine merchant criedbreathlessly to the woman to open it, and in a twinkling they hadme through it, and half-way across the road. The one thing Ifeared was a knife-thrust in the MELEE; but I had to run thatrisk, and the men were honest, and, thinking me drunk, indulgent.In a trice I found myself on my back in the dirt, with my headhumming; and heard the bars of the door fall noisily into theirplaces.

I got up and went to the door, and, to play out my part, hammeredon it frantically; crying out to them to let me in. But thethree travellers only jeered at me, and the landlord, coming tothe window, with his head bleeding, shook his fist at me, andcursed me for a mischief-maker.

Baffled in this, I retired to a log which lay in the road a fewpaces from the house, and sat down on it to await events. Withtorn clothes and bleeding face, hatless and covered with dirt, Iwas in little better case than my opponent. It was raining, too,and the dripping branches swayed over my head. The wind was inthe south--the coldest quarter. I began to feel chilled anddispirited. If my scheme failed, I had forfeited roof and bed tono purpose, and placed future progress out of the question. Itwas a critical moment.

But at last that happened for which I had been looking. The doorswung open a few inches, and a man came noiselessly out; it wasquickly barred behind him. He stood a moment, waiting on thethreshold and peering into the gloom; and seemed to expect to beattacked. Finding himself unmolested, however, and all quiet, hewent off steadily down the street--towards the Chateau.

I let a couple of minutes go by, and then I followed. I had nodifficulty in hitting on the track at the end of the street, butwhen I had once plunged into the wood, I found myself in darknessso intense that I soon strayed from the path, and fell overroots, and tore my clothes with thorns, and lost my temper twentytimes before I found the path again. However, I gained thebridge at last, and thence caught sight of a light twinklingbefore me. To make for it across the meadow and terrace was aneasy task; yet, when I had reached the door and had hammered uponit, I was so worn out, and in so sorry a plight that I sank down,and had little need to play a part, or pretend to be worse than Iwas.

For a long time no one answered. The dark house towering aboveme remained silent. I could hear, mingled with the throbbings ofmy heart, the steady croaking of the frogs in a pond near thestables; but no other sound. In a frenzy of impatience anddisgust, I stood up again and hammered, kicking with my heels onthe nail-studded door, and crying out desperately,--

'A MOI! A MOI!'

Then, or a moment later, I heard a remote door opened; footstepsas of more than one person drew near. I raised my voice andcried again,--

'What brings you here?' the voice asked sharply. Despite itstartness, I fancied that it was a woman's.

'Heaven knows!' I answered desperately. 'I cannot tell. Theymaltreated me at the inn, and threw me into the street. Icrawled away, and have been wandering in the wood for hours.Then I saw a light here.'

On that some muttering took place on the other side of the door--to which I had my ear. It ended in the bars being lowered. Thedoor swung partly open, and a light shone out, dazzling me. Itried to shade my eyes with my fingers, and, as did so, fancied Iheard a murmur of pity. But when I looked in under screen of myhand, I saw only one person--the man who held the light, and hisaspect was so strange, so terrifying, that, shaken as I was byfatigue, I recoiled a step.

He was a tall and very thin man, meanly dressed in a short,scanty jacket and well-darned hose. Unable, for some reason, tobend his neck, he carried his head with a strange stiffness.

And that head--never did living man show a face so like death.His forehead was bald and yellow, his cheek-bones stood out underthe strained skin, all the lower part of his face fell in, hisjaws receded, his cheeks were hollow, his lips and chin were thinand fleshless. He seemed to have only one expression--a fixedgrin.

While I stood looking at this formidable creature, he made aquick movement to shut the door again, smiling more widely. Ihad the presence of mind to thrust in my foot, and, before hecould resent the act, a voice in the background cried,--

'For shame, Clon! Stand back, stand back! do you hear? I amafraid, Monsieur, that you are hurt.'

Those words were my welcome to that house; and, spoken at an hourand in circumstances so gloomy, they made a lasting impression.Round the hall ran a gallery, and this, the height of theapartment, and the dark panelling seemed to swallow up the light.I stood within the entrance (as it seemed to me) of a huge cave;the skull-headed porter had the air of an ogre. Only the voicewhich greeted me dispelled the illusion. I turned tremblingtowards the quarter whence it came, and, shading my eyes, madeout a woman's form standing in a doorway under the gallery. Asecond figure, which I took to be that of the servant I had seenat the inn, loomed uncertainly beside her.

I bowed in silence. My teeth were chattering. I was faintwithout feigning, and felt a kind of terror, hard to explain, atthe sound of this woman's voice.

'One of our people has told me about you, she continued, speakingout of the darkness. 'I am sorry that this has happened to youhere, but I am afraid that you were indiscreet.'

'I take all the blame, Madame,' I answered humbly. 'I ask onlyshelter for the night.'

'The time has not yet come when we cannot give our friends that!'she answered with noble courtesy. 'When it does, Monsieur, weshall be homeless ourselves.'

I shivered, looking anywhere but at her; for, if the truth betold, I had not sufficiently pictured this scene of my arrival--Ihad not foredrawn its details; and now I took part in it I felt amiserable meanness weigh me down. I had never from the firstliked the work, but I had had no choice, and I had no choice now.Luckily, the guise in which I came, my fatigue, and wound were asufficient mask, or I should have incurred suspicion at once.For I am sure that if ever in this world a brave man wore a hang-dog air, or Gil de Berault fell below himself, it was then andthere--on Madame de Cocheforet's threshold, with her welcomesounding in my ears.

One, I think, did suspect me. Clon, the porter, continued tohold the door obstinately ajar and to eye me with grinning spite,until his mistress, with some sharpness, bade him drop the barsand conduct me to a room.

'Do you go also, Louis,' she continued, speaking to the manbeside her, 'and see this gentleman comfortably disposed. I amsorry,' she added, addressing me in the graceful tone she hadbefore used, and I thought that I could see her head bend in thedarkness, 'that our present circumstances do not permit us towelcome you more fitly, Monsieur. But the troubles of the times--however, you will excuse what is lacking. Until to-morrow, Ihave the honour to bid you good-night.'

'Good-night, Madame,' I stammered, trembling. I had not beenable to distinguish her face in the gloom of the doorway, but hervoice, her greeting, her presence unmanned me. I was troubledand perplexed; I had not spirit to kick a dog. I followed thetwo servants from the hall without heeding how we went; nor wasit until we came to a full stop at a door in a white-washedcorridor, and it was forced upon me that something was inquestion between my two conductors that I began to take notice.

Then I saw that one of them, Louis, wished to lodge me here wherewe stood. The porter, on the other hand, who held the keys,would not. He did not speak a word, nor did the other--and thisgave a queer ominous character to the debate; but he continued tojerk his head towards the farther end of the corridor; and, atlast, he carried his point. Louis shrugged his shoulders, andmoved on, glancing askance at me; and I, not understanding thematter in debate, followed the pair in silence.

We reached the end of the corridor, and there for an instant themonster with the keys paused and grinned at me. Then he turnedinto a narrow passage on the left, and after following it forsome paces, halted before a small, strong door. His key jarredin the lock, but he forced it shrieking round, and with a savageflourish threw the door open.

I walked in and saw a mean, bare chamber with barred windows.The floor was indifferently clean, there was no furniture. Theyellow light of the lanthorn falling on the stained walls gavethe place the look of a dungeon. I turned to the two men. 'Thisis not a very good room,' I said. 'And it feels damp. Have youno other?'

Louis looked doubtfully at his companion. But the porter shookhis head stubbornly.

'Why does he not speak?' I asked with impatience.

'He is dumb,' Louis answered.

'Dumb!' I exclaimed. 'But he hears.'

'He has ears,' the servant answered drily. 'But he has notongue, Monsieur.'

I shuddered. 'How did he lose it?' I asked.

'At Rochelle. He was a spy, and the king's people took him theday the town surrendered. They spared his life, but cut out histongue.'

'Ah!' I said. I wished to say more, to be natural, to showmyself at my ease. But the porter's eyes seemed to burn into me,and my own tongue clave to the roof of my mouth. He opened hislips and pointed to his throat with a horrid gesture, and I shookmy head and turned from him--'You can let me have some bedding?'I murmured hastily, for the sake of saying something, and toescape.

'Of course, Monsieur,' Louis answered. 'I will fetch some.'

He went away, thinking doubtless that Clon would stay with me.But after waiting a minute the porter strode off also with thelanthorn, leaving me to stand in the middle of the damp, darkroom and reflect on the position. It was plain that Clonsuspected me. This prison-like room, with its barred window, atthe back of the house, and in the wing farthest from the stables,proved so much. Clearly, he was a dangerous fellow, of whom Imust beware. I had just begun to wonder how Madame could keepsuch a monster in her house, when I heard his step returning. Hecame in, lighting Louis, who carried a small pallet and a bundleof coverings.

The dumb man had, besides the lanthorn, a bowl of water and apiece of rag in his hand. He set them down, and going out again,fetched in a stool. Then he hung up the lanthorn on a nail, tookthe bowl and rag, and invited me to sit down.

I was loth to let him touch me; but he continued to stand overme, pointing and grinning with dark persistence, and rather thanstand on a trifle I sat down at last and gave him his way. Hebathed my head carefully enough, and I daresay did it good; butI understood. I knew that his only desire was to learn whetherthe cut was real or a pretence, and I began to fear him more andmore; until he was gone from the room, I dared scarcely lift myface lest he should read too much in it.

Alone, even, I felt uncomfortable, this seemed so sinister abusiness, and so ill begun. I was in the house. But Madame'sfrank voice haunted me, and the dumb man's eyes, full ofsuspicion and menace. When I presently got up and tried my door,I found it locked. The room smelt dank and close--like a vault.I could not see through the barred window, but I could hear theboughs sweep it in ghostly fashion; and I guessed that it lookedout where the wood grew close to the walls of the house, and thateven in the day the sun never peeped through it.

Nevertheless, tired and worn out, I slept at last. When I awokethe room was full of grey light, the door stood open, and Louis,looking ashamed of himself, waited by my pallet with a cup ofwine in his hand, and some bread and fruit on a platter.

'Will Monsieur be good enough to rise?' he said. 'It is eighto'clock.'

'Willingly,' I answered tartly. 'Now that the door is unlocked.'

He turned red. 'It was an oversight,' he stammered 'Clon isaccustomed to lock the door, and he did it inadvertently,forgetting that there was anyone--'

'Inside,' I said drily.

'Precisely, Monsieur.'

'Ah!' I replied. 'Well, I do not think the oversight wouldplease Madame de Cocheforet if she heard of it?'

'If Monsieur would have the kindness not to--'

'Mention it, my good fellow?' answered, looking at him withmeaning as I rose. 'No. But it must not occur again.'

I saw that this man was not like Clon. He had the instincts ofthe family servant, and freed from the influences of fear anddarkness felt ashamed of his conduct. While he arranged myclothes, he looked round the room with an air of distaste, andmuttered once or twice that the furniture of the principalchambers was packed away.

'M. de Cocheforet is abroad, I think?' I said as I dressed.

'And likely to remain there,' the man answered carelessly,shrugging his shoulders. 'Monsieur will doubtless have heardthat he is in trouble. In the meantime, the house is TRISTE, andMonsieur must overlook much, if he stays. Madame lives retired,and the roads are ill-made and visitors few.'

'When the lion was ill the jackals left him,' I said.

Louis nodded. 'It is true,' he answered simply. He made noboast or brag on his own account, I noticed; and it came home tome that he was a faithful fellow, such as I love. I questionedhim discreetly, and learned that he and Clon and an older man wholived over the stables were the only male servants left of agreat household. Madame, her sister-in-law, and three womencompleted the family.

It took me some time to repair my wardrobe, so that I daresay itwas nearly ten when I left my dismal little room. I found Louiswaiting in the corridor, and he told me that Madame de Cocheforetand Mademoiselle were in the rose garden, and would be pleased toreceive me. I nodded, and he guided me through several dimpassages to a parlour with an open door, through which the sunshone gaily on the floor. Cheered by the morning air and thissudden change to pleasantness and life, I stepped lightly out.

The two ladies were walking up and down a wide path whichbisected the garden. The weeds grew rankly in the gravelunderfoot, the rose bushes which bordered the walk thrust theirbranches here and there in untrained freedom, a dark yew hedgewhich formed the background bristled with rough shoots and sadlyneeded trimming. But I did not see any of these things. Thegrace, the noble air, the distinction of the two women who pacedslowly to meet me--and who shared all these qualities, greatly asthey differed in others--left me no power to notice trifles.

Mademoiselle was a head shorter than her BELLE-SOEUR--a slenderwoman and petite, with a beautiful face and a fair complexion; awoman wholly womanly. She walked with dignity, but besideMadame's stately figure she had an air almost childish. And itwas characteristic of the two that Mademoiselle as they drew nearto me regarded me with sorrowful attention, Madame with a gravesmile.

I bowed low. They returned the salute. 'This is my sister,'Madame de Cocheforet said, with a very slight air ofcondescension, 'Will you please to tell me your name, Monsieur?'

'I am M. de Barthe, a gentleman of Normandy,' I said, taking onimpulse the name of my mother. My own, by a possibility, mightbe known.

Madame's face wore a puzzled look. 'I do not know that name, Ithink,' she said thoughtfully. Doubtless she was going over inher mind all the names with which conspiracy had made herfamiliar.

That is my misfortune, Madame,' I said humbly.

'Nevertheless I am going to scold you,' she rejoined, stilleyeing me with some keenness. 'I am glad to see that you arenone the worse for your adventure--but others may be. And youshould have borne that in mind, sir.'

'I do not think that I hurt the man seriously,' I stammered.

'I do not refer to that,' she answered coldly. 'You know, orshould know, that we are in disgrace here; that the Governmentregards us already with an evil eye, and that a very small thingwould lead them to garrison the village, and perhaps oust us fromthe little the wars have left us. You should have known this,and considered it,' she continued. 'Whereas--I do not say thatyou are a braggart, M. de Barthe. But on this one occasion youseem to have played the part of one.'

'Madame, I did not think,' I stammered.

'Want of thought causes much evil,' she answered, smiling.'However, I have spoken, and we trust that while you stay with usyou will be more careful. For the rest, Monsieur,' she continuedgraciously, raising her hand to prevent me speaking, 'we do notknow why you are here, or what plans you are pursuing. And we donot wish to know. It is enough that you are of our side. Thishouse is at your service as long as you please to use it. And ifwe can aid you in any other way we will do so.'

'Madame!' I exclaimed; and there I stopped. I could say nomore. The rose garden, with its air of neglect, the shadow of thequiet house that fell across it, the great yew hedge which backedit, and was the pattern of one under which I had played inchildhood--all had points that pricked me. But the women'skindness, their unquestioning confidence, the noble air ofhospitality which moved them! Against these and their placidbeauty in its peaceful frame I had no shield, no defence. Iturned away, and feigned to be overcome by gratitude.

'We will leave you for a while,' Mademoiselle de Cocheforet saidin gentle pitying tones. 'The air will revive you. Louis shallcall you when we go to dinner, M. de Barthe. Come, Elise.'

I bowed low to hide my face, and they nodded pleasantly--notlooking closely at me--as they walked by me to the house. Iwatched the two gracious, pale-robed figures until the doorwayswallowed them, and then I walked away to a quiet corner wherethe shrubs grew highest and the yew hedge threw its deepestshadow, and I stood to think.

And, MON DIEU, strange thoughts. If the oak can think at themoment the wind uproots it, or the gnarled thorn-bush when thelandslip tears it from the slope, they may have such thoughts, Istared at the leaves, at the rotting blossoms, into the darkcavities of the hedge; I stared mechanically, dazed andwondering. What was the purpose for which I was here? What wasthe work I had come to do? Above all, how--my God! how was I todo it in the face of these helpless women, who trusted me, whobelieved in me, who opened their house to me? Clon had notfrightened me, nor the loneliness of the leagued village, nor theremoteness of this corner where the dread Cardinal seemed a name,and the King's writ ran slowly, and the rebellion long quenchedelsewhere, still smouldered. But Madame's pure faith, theyounger woman's tenderness--how was I to face these?

I cursed the Cardinal--would he had stayed at Luchon. I cursedthe English fool who had brought me to this, I cursed the yearsof plenty and scarceness, and the Quartier Marais, and Zaton's,where I had lived like a pig, and--

A touch fell on my arm. I turned. It was Clon. How he hadstolen up so quietly, how long he had been at my elbow, I couldnot tell. But his eyes gleamed spitefully in their deep sockets,and he laughed with his fleshless lips; and I hated him. In thedaylight the man looked more like a death's-head than ever. Ifancied that I read in his face that he knew my secret, and Iflashed into rage at sight of him.

'What is it?' I cried, with another oath. 'Don't lay yourcorpse-claws on me!'

'Is Madame served?' I said impatiently, crushing down my anger.'Is that what you mean, fool?'

He nodded,

'Very well,' I retorted. 'I can find my way then. You may go!'

He fell behind, and I strode back through the sunshine andflowers, and along the grass-grown paths, to the door by which Ihad come I walked fast, but his shadow kept pace with me, drivingout the unaccustomed thoughts in which I had been indulging.Slowly but surely it darkened my mood. After all, this was alittle, little place; the people who lived here--I shrugged myshoulders. France, power, pleasure, life, everything worthwinning, worth having, lay yonder in the great city. A boy mightwreck himself here for a fancy; a man of the world, never. WhenI entered the room, where the two ladies stood waiting for me bythe table, I was nearly my old self again. And a chance wordpresently completed the work.

'Clon made you understand, then?' the young woman said kindly,as I took my seat.

'Yes, Mademoiselle,' I answered. On that I saw the two smile atone another, and I added: 'He is a strange creature. I wonderthat you can bear to have him near you.'

'Poor man! You do not know his story?' Madame said.

'I have heard something of it,' I answered. 'Louis told me.'

'Well, I do shudder at him sometimes,' she replied, in a lowvoice. 'He has suffered--and horribly, and for us. But I wishthat it had been on any other service. Spies are necessarythings, but one does not wish to have to do with them! Anythingin the nature of treachery is so horrible.'

To be frank, however, it was not the old wound that touched me sonearly, but Madame's words; which, finishing what Clon's suddenappearance in the garden had begun, went a long way towardshardening me and throwing me back into myself. I saw withbitterness--what I had perhaps forgotten for a moment--how greatwas the chasm that separated me from these women; how impossibleit was that we could long think alike; how far apart in views, inexperience, in aims we were. And while I made a mock in my heartof their high-flown sentiments--or thought I did--I laughed noless at the folly which had led me to dream, even for a, moment,that I could, at my age, go back--go back and risk all for awhim, a scruple, the fancy of a lonely hour.

I daresay something of this showed in my face; for Madame's eyesmirrored a dim reflection of trouble as she looked at me, andMademoiselle talked nervously and at random. At any rate, Ifancied so, and I hastened to compose myself; and the two, inpressing upon me the simple dainties of the table soon forgot, orappeared to forget, the incident.

Yet in spite of this CONTRETEMPS, that first meal had a strangecharm for me. The round table whereat we dined was spread insidethe open door which led to the garden, so that the Octobersunshine fell full on the spotless linen and quaint old plate,and the fresh balmy air filled the room with the scent of sweetherbs. Louis served us with the mien of a major-domo, and set oneach dish as though it had been a peacock or a mess of ortolans.The woods provided the larger portion of our meal; the garden didits part; the confections Mademoiselle had cooked with her ownhand.

By-and-by, as the meal went on, as Louis trod to and fro acrossthe polished floor, and the last insects of summer hummedsleepily outside, and the two gracious faces continued to smileat me out of the gloom--for the ladies sat with their backs tothe door--I began to dream again, I began to sink again intofolly, that was half-pleasure, half-pain. The fury of thegaming-house and the riot of Zaton's seemed far away. Thetriumphs of the fencing-room--even they grew cheap and tawdry. Ithought of existence as one outside it, I balanced this againstthat, and wondered whether, after all, the red soutane were somuch better than the homely jerkin, or the fame of a day thanease and safety.

And life at Cocheforet was all after the pattern of this dinner.Each day, I might almost say each meal, gave rise to the samesequence of thoughts. In Clon's presence, or when some word ofMadame's, unconsciously harsh, reminded me of the distancebetween us, I was myself. At other times, in face of thispeaceful and intimate life, which was only rendered possible bythe remoteness of the place and the peculiar circumstances inwhich the ladies stood, I felt a strange weakness, The lonelinessof the woods that encircled the house, and only here and thereafforded a distant glimpse of snow-clad peaks; the absence of anylink to bind me to the old life, so that at intervals it seemedunreal; the remoteness of the great world, all tended to sap mywill and weaken the purpose which had brought me to this place.

On the fourth day after my coming, however, something happened tobreak the spell. It chanced that I came late to dinner, andentered the room hastily and without ceremony, expecting to findMadame and her sister already seated. Instead, I found themtalking in a low tone by the open door, with every mark ofdisorder in their appearance; while Clon and Louis stood at alittle distance with downcast faces and perplexed looks.

I had time to see all this, and then my entrance wrought a suddenchange. Clon and Louis sprang to attention; Madame and hersister came to the table and sat down, and all made a shallowpretence of being at their ease. But Mademoiselle's face waspale, her hand trembled; and though Madame's greater self-commandenabled her to carry off the matter better, I saw that she wasnot herself. Once or twice she spoke harshly to Louis; she fellat other times into a brown study; and when she thought that Iwas not watching her, her face wore a look of deep anxiety.

I wondered what all this meant; and I wondered more when, afterthe meal, the two walked in the garden for an hour with Clon.Mademoiselle came from this interview alone, and I was sure thatshe had been weeping. Madame and the dark porter stayed outsidesome time longer; then she, too, came in, and disappeared.

Clon did not return with her, and when I went into the gardenfive minutes later, Louis also had vanished. Save for two womenwho sat sewing at an upper window, the house seemed to bedeserted. Not a sound broke the afternoon stillness of room orgarden, and yet I felt that more was happening in this silencethan appeared on the surface. I begin to grow curious--suspicious, and presently slipped out myself by way of thestables, and skirting the wood at the back of the house, gainedwith a little trouble the bridge which crossed the stream and ledto the village.

Turning round at this point I could see the house, and I moved alittle aside into the underwood, and stood gazing at the windows,trying to unriddle the matter. It was not likely that M. deCocheforet would repeat his visit so soon; and, besides, thewomen's emotions had been those of pure dismay and grief, unmixedwith any of the satisfaction to which such a meeting, thoughsnatched by stealth, must give rise. I discarded my firstthought therefore--that he had returned unexpectedly--and Isought for another solution.

But no other was on the instant forthcoming. The windowsremained obstinately blind, no figures appeared on the terrace,the garden lay deserted, and without life. My departure had not,as I half expected it would, drawn the secret into light.

I watched awhile, at times cursing my own meanness; but theexcitement of the moment and the quest tided me over that. ThenI determined to go down into the village and see whether anythingwas moving there. I had been down to the inn once, and had beenreceived half sulkily, half courteously, as a person privilegedat the great house, and therefore to be accepted. It would notbe thought odd if I went again, and after a moment's thought, Istarted down the track.

This, where it ran through the wood, was so densely shaded thatthe sun penetrated to it little, and in patches only. A squirrelstirred at times, sliding round a trunk, or scampering across thedry leaves. Occasionally a pig grunted and moved farther intothe wood. But the place was very quiet, and I do not know how itwas that I surprised Clon instead of being surprised by him.

He was walking along the path before me with his eyes on theground--walking so slowly, and with his lean frame so bent that Imight have supposed him ill if I had not remarked the steadymovement of his head from right to left, and the alert touch withwhich he now and again displaced a clod of earth or a cluster ofleaves. By-and-by he rose stiffly, and looked round himsuspiciously; but by that time I had slipped behind a trunk, andwas not to be seen; and after a brief interval he went back tohis task, stooping over it more closely, if possible, thanbefore, and applying himself with even greater care.

By that time I had made up my mind that he was tracking someone.But whom? I could not make a guess at that. I only knew thatthe plot was thickening, and began to feel the eagerness of thechase. Of course, if the matter had not to do with Cocheforet,it was no affair of mine; but though it seemed unlikely thatanything could bring him back so soon, he might still be at thebottom of this. And, besides, I felt a natural curiosity. WhenClon at last improved his pace, and went on to the village, Itook up his task. I called to mind all the wood-lore I had everlearned, and scanned trodden mould and crushed leaves with eagereyes. But in vain. I could make nothing of it all, and rose atlast with an aching back and no advantage.

I did not go on to the village after that, but returned to thehouse, where I found Madame pacing the garden. She looked upeagerly on hearing my step; and I was mistaken if she was notdisappointed--if she had not been expecting someone else. Shehid the feeling bravely, however, and met me with a carelessword; but she turned to the house more than once while we talked,and she seemed to be all the while on the watch, and uneasy. Iwas not surprised when Clon's figure presently appeared in thedoorway, and she left me abruptly, and went to him. I only feltmore certain than before that there was something strange onfoot. What it was, and whether it had to do with M. deCocheforet, I could not tell. But there it was, and I grew morecurious the longer I remained alone.

She came back to me presently, looking thoughtful and a trifledowncast.

'That was Clon, was it not?' I said, studying her face,

'Yes,' she answered. She spoke absently, and did not look at me.

'How does he talk to you?' I asked, speaking a trifle curtly.

As I intended, my tone roused her. 'By signs,' she said.

'Is he--is he not a little mad?" I ventured. I wanted to makeher talk and forget herself.

She looked at me with sudden keenness, then dropped her eyes,

'You do not like him?' she said, a note of challenge in hervoice. 'I have noticed that, Monsieur.'

'I think he does not like me,' I replied.

'He is less trustful than we are,' she answered naively. 'It isnatural that he should be. He has seen more of the world.'

That silenced me for a moment, but she did not seem to notice it.

'I was looking for him a little while ago, and I could not findhim,' I said, after a pause

'He has been into the village,' she answered.

I longed to pursue the matter further; but though she seemed toentertain no suspicion of me, I dared not run the risk. I triedher, instead, on another tack.

'Mademoiselle de Cocheforet does not seem very well to-day?' Isaid.

'No?' she answered carelessly. 'Well, now you speak of it, I donot think that she is. She is often anxious about--one we love.'

She uttered the last words with a little hesitation, and lookedat me quickly when she had spoken them. We were sitting at themoment on a stone seat which had the wall of the house for aback; and, fortunately, I was toying with the branch of acreeping plant that hung over it, so that she could not see morethan the side of my face. For I knew that it altered. Over myvoice, however, I had more control, and I hastened to answer,'Yes, I suppose so,' as innocently as possible.

'He is at Bosost, in Spain. You knew that, I conclude?' shesaid, with a certain sharpness. And she looked me in the faceagain very directly.